On the Inside
by Musicalrain
Summary: A Citadel journalist is stationed aboard a turian vessel during the Reaper war. How will she handle being the only human on the ship? What stories will she discover? Fic follows ME3 timeline. AU. Full of OCs and Spanish. Eventual inclusion of Solana and Papa Vakarian. Rating subject to change. Eventual pairings/romances.


Author Note: This is an AU story that will generally follow the timeline of ME3. It's full of OCs. Eventual inclusion of Solana and Papa Vakarian (who I will be naming Dameon. If he has a canon name, please let me know), but they will be minor characters. This story will focus on turians – their behavior, their military, and their culture. This story will also take a look at the impact of the Reaper war from the view of civilian(s). And of course, since it's one of my stories, it will contain both numerous friendships and romances. Anyway, here is the first chapter 'Assignment' – enjoy!

…...

Palaven was hit by the Reapers a week ago. Survivors started to arrive on the Citadel within days of the Reaper invasion on the turian homeworld. Those employed by _Frontier Journals _started setting up interviews with refugees as soon as they began pouring in. The interviews are golden – many people want intimate details on the Reaper invasion, a personal opinion on the state of the war, and tales of heroics. Readers want to connect with others in their shoes, idolize local heroes, and sympathize with survivors. After publishing a story on a turian mother giving birth en route to the Citadel after her mate sacrificed himself to ensure her safety, the Journals' extranet hits went up trifold. The next day after publishing a story on a group of young soldiers fresh out of bootcamp surviving through a horde of husks and saving a volus businessman in the process, Frontier Journals' reads hit an all time high. They are benefiting on other's misfortunes, true, but they're also increasing awareness on the Reaper War outside of military reports and popular opinion. At least... that's what Frontier journalist Cassandra Martinez assures herself.

Cassandra, or "Sandy," has been employed by _Frontier Journals _since she graduated from university four years ago. She honesty tells people that she could never imagine doing anything else. She loves being a journalist. She loves 'spreading awareness,' and 'opening eyes'. Which is why she's more than a little excited to have a position on the _PFS Thuro_ – a stealthy fighter-class frigate specializing in risky on-the-ground rescue missions. Since the start of the Reaper invasion on Palaven, they've flown twice on rescue missions. Once to the heavily hit Palaven City without so much as a shot thruster. And another to a remote area decimated by Reapers to gather a group of civilians that had managed to transmit an SOS to the Fleet. They've been assigned for primary survivor rescue, versus direct placement on the Reaper front as much of the turian Fleet is being used.

Yes, Sandy knows that the Thuro is a turian vessel, and as she, a human, given permission to report on the ship's voyages as a journalist is very unusual. It's due to circumstance... and a little bit of luck. See the ship's Captain, Silas Leonitus, is bonded to her sister's wife's sister. That is, Sandy's sister, Claudia, is married to an asari by the name of Mai T'Ida. Mai has a sister, Neila, who is the bondmate of Captain Leonitus. Sandy used her pull with Silas Leonitus to get this once in a lifetime opportunity to be a direct part of the resistance against the Reapers, and produce the best damned articles _Frontier Journals _has ever seen. She felt a little bit bad about using her family connections like that, but not now. Now she's more than a little excited.

It's a mixture of fear, curiosity, and anticipation that makes Sandy hurry to Docking Bay 42 where the Thuro is currently being refueled. She's to meet with Silas' Executive Officer, to be given her clearance to enter both the docking station and the vessel. XO Iraia Thiago was described by Silas as a 'cold woman'. When asked to give more details so Sandy could recognize her, Silas said she had silver plates and Palaven City-blue paint adorning her faceplates. He seemed to even give up that information reluctantly. Sandy wasn't sure what to make of that.

She finds XO Thiago standing board-straight just to the right of the dock's gates. She's a tall woman, _but all turians are tall_, with light silver plates, her blue face paint artfully done, and as she approaches Sandy can see the stark green of her eyes. Iraia also has the rather softer features and near non-existent fringe on the back of her head, typical of female turians.

As Sandy approaches, Iraia clicks her small mandibles and turns her attention to the journalist. "I assume you are the journalist Cassandra Martinez?" She doesn't wait for Sandy to reply, "You're early. Good. I'd hate to wait."

_Dios mio...She's... nice. __And __did __she __growl? _"Ah, sí... I mean, yes, I'm Cassandra Martinez. I was told by Silas that I'd need clearance?"

"That's Captain Leonitus, Miss Martinez," she barks. "When you are aboard the Thuro, you should take care to remember that."

Sandy blinks at her in shock of her harsh tone. "You're aware that the Captain and I are... distant relatives, sí?" They've only ever spoken at family get-togethers, a few asari holidays, and the occasional message or two, but beyond that... Sandy's not exactly close friends with Silas, but she's certainly comfortable enough to be on a first name basis with him.

"When you're aboard the Thuro," Iraia steps closer. "You are a part of her crew, and you will address the ship's Captain appropriately."

_Note to self: call Silas Captain Leonitus when Iraia is in hearing range._"Yes, Executive Officer Thiago." By the way Iraia's faceplates twitched, she didn't like the way Sandy pronounced her family name. _I've been told my accent's __beautiful. __Ah, __she __has __no __taste. _"Do you have my clearance tags?"

The XO nods and hands her two brightly colored holo-tags strung on a chain – one orange and one green. She's seen enough of the orange tags around to know those are for Dock entry. She puts them around her neck, and follows Iraia when she wordlessly turns on her heel and heads for the docked turian fighter ship. _She ruined my mood... Oh! But I'll see Silas now, s__í__? He's very sweet._

…...

Sure enough the older turian has his mandibles spread into a wide grin as he stands in front of the cockpit entry's doors. Silas is what Sandy would call ruggedly handsome... for an alien. He's an older turian male with ruddy-brown plates and same colored eyes, with bright red boxy face paint interrupted here and there by a smattering of old scars. He holds himself with a tall regality, but he can be surprisingly friendly for someone who's so intimating looking.

"Sandy!" he exclaims in greeting as he holds out a hand to give Sandy a friendly human handshake.

"Hola Silas!" She looks briefly at Iraia and corrects herself for the XO's benefit, "Captain Leonitus."

He clicks his mandibles as he too briefly looks at his XO. "I suppose we are on duty, so Captain would do." He releases Sandy's hand and then turns to Iraia, "Take Miss Martinez to her quarters, and then see to it that she receives a tour before we leave the Citadel."

…...

Sandy's quarters appear to be a recently cleared storage closet in the back of the Med-bay – made complete with a cot, two storage chests, and a hastily installed terminal. _Gracias Jesus Cristo para lo._She sets her heavy duffel bag on the floor beside her cot, and turns to the XO standing in the doorway.

"Your rations are kept in a separate refrigeration unit in the Mess Hall," Iraia says in monotone. "Ensure that your food does not touch ours. Most of the crew tested show little or no sensitivity to levo-based materials, but two Privates are. And your test results came through this morning. You'd be pleased to know you are not allergic." She shifts her weight and mutters nearly under her breath, "Saves me less paperwork." She snaps her mandibles together, "Your... keeper, I suppose, is the closest word... You are Lieutenant Nero Aurum's charge. If you need to requisition any supplies – request them through him. If you're having a problem with any of the crew – report all incidents through him. If you want to publish something – all preliminary reports must be given to him. Lieutenant Aurum is your primary point of contact – not me. I expect not to find you in my office unless explicit permission is granted. Agreed Miss Martinez?"

Sandy nods her head in agreement. _Hopefully this Lieutenant is better company. _"Yes, Executive Officer Thiago."

Her faceplates twitch again. "The Lieutenant will give you a tour. Follow me."

She passes through the Med-bay on the XO's heels as she's subject to curious stares from the medical staff, to find a tall male turian with long fringe atop his head, muted black plates, and the least amount of face paint she's seen on a turian that wasn't 'bareface'. He has two short yellow lines on his chin, and one on each tip of his mandibles. _And the greenest eyes I've __ever __seen. __Even __greener __than __an __asari's._

"Lieutenant Aurum," Iraia addresses her subordinate. "This is Miss Cassandra Martinez. The Captain has requested she receive a tour of our vessel before departure."

"Yes Executive Officer." He gives the turian salute as the XO leaves.

Nero folds his hands behind his back, "You can follow me. I'll give you a quick tour."

…...

_I always forget just how... tall turians are. _The very visible sharp teeth and predatory features don't phase her much, _seen them before_, but the feeling of being... small, vulnerable is more disquieting. She walks beside the Lieutenant as he points out the other notable places on the Crew Deck, and tries to keep up with his long gait. Sandy's never felt more... alien before. So misplaced. Sure, humans are a minority on the Citadel, and where she grew up there weren't a significant number of familiar human faces, but she's literally the _only _non-turian aboard. She's receiving a lot of stares – curious and hostile.

They finish the quick tour of the Crew Deck – Med-bay, Mess Hall, Training Room, Crew Quarters, Lounge, Restroom facilities, and a separate Weight Room. The Crew Quarters are different than she's seen of human vessels – there's multiple small rooms with four bunks in each instead of one large shared room for those of lower rank.

"So..." Nero stops in front of the Weight Room, which is also filled with a lot of equipment Sandy can't recognize or name, "Stairs or elevators Miss Martinez?"

"Sandy." His mandibles shake and he tilts his head. _Is he trying not to laugh? _"You can call me Sandy. Everyone does."

"And who's everyone?"

She purses her lips, "Everyone but XO Thiago."

This time he does bark a laugh. "Alright Sandy, which way to Engineering?"

"Um... elevator."

…...

_I shouldn't have chosen elevator. _"Uh," she looks over to the black-plated turian leaning against the interior rail on the elevator. "Are all the elevators this slow? There's two, right?"

He turns his head towards her, but somehow manages to lean even more on the rail with the movement, "Yep. Two. And it takes five standard minutes to get to Engineering from Crew by elevator."

"¡Ay Dios mio! ¡Esta es terrible!" She sighs and rubs her forehead, "How long by stairs?"

"Two." He shifts a little, "What did you say there? My translator didn't pick it up."

"Translators don't pick up Spanish, really?" She furrows her brow for a moment. "I didn't say anything important though. Just... cursing the elevator a little."

He chuckles slightly, and there's a short pause before he asks, "The rumor was that the journalist was a relative of the Captain's. You don't really... look related."

"Oh we are," she smiles slightly, her chestnut-colored eyes warm. "Though not directly. By marriage."

He moves to face her a little more, "I thought the Captain was bonded to an asari."

"Sí, Neila. It's, um, complicated."

He crosses his arms, "Try me."

_ ._"Silas is bonded to Neila whose sister is Mai. Mai is married, or bonded, to my sister Claudia."

He laughs in a deep rumble, nearly sounding a growl, and Sandy sighs. "See – complicated."

Nero's laughter subsides and he says, "Very. And a very indirect relation too."

Sandy decides to try and change the topic, "And what of you? You know I'm a journalist and a... sorta relative of the Captain's. I doubt all you do is babysit humans." _And it does sound like the XO made him my babysitter._

"Just the one human." He clicks his mandibles together lightly. _Was that... a joke? _"I'm part of the ground team. When I'm not groundside, I'm usually a guard in the Hangar... but now I'm not. It's ground team and babysitting duty for me."

_He's... __a __character. __You __get __him __alone __and __he __seems __very... __relaxed __for __a __turian. _"Off the record," she smirks. "What do you do in the ground team?" She looks him up and down. _Lightarmor... only a pistol, but I doubt that's his primary weapon. _"Are you a tech expert?" She makes a guess.

His deep, flanging voice is laced with humor when he replies. _All turian voices are beautiful. _"Oh Spirits no. I can't even use my omni-tool right half the time." Nero snorts, "I'm adept in... biotics."

"Oh," her eyes shine with inquisitive glee. "How wonderful – I've never met a turian biotic before!" She clasps her hands together and smiles broadly, but it fades as her fine black brows furrow. "But – I thought all turian biotics were assigned to black ops and the like. Why are you assigned to a rescue vessel, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Off the record?" He asks, and Sandy nods eagerly. "I'm not... a very good soldier. Too many insubordinate marks, and I get assigned here. Babysitting humans." He spreads his mandibles in a turian smirk, and it's a good thing Sandy could recognize it, or she could've very easily missed his amusement. _Turian facial expressions are very subtle._

"Ah, well so far you're a good babysitter. Maybe you should consider a career change?"

Nero chuckles lightly again, and the elevator doors open. As he steps through, he mutters self-depreciatingly, "The Hierarchy would never let a biotic go."

…...

They finish a tour of the two lower levels, to return to Deck 2, where Sandy had first boarded the Thuro. Nero points out the offices, navigation, weapons stations, and intelligence terminals before they walk to the cockpit where Silas is still standing in the company of the pilot and co-pilot.

"Sandy – you're all done with the tour?" Silas grasps Sandy's upper arm in a familial turian greeting, and she tries her best to reciprocate the gesture due to the height difference. _And arms... his arms are much longer than mine. _"How do you like the Thuro? Impressive little fighter, isn't she?"

"Oh, she's one of the nicest ships I've been on Silas," Sandy replies truthfully. "Thank you again for allowing me aboard. I really appreciate this opportunity."

He lowers his head slightly and releases her arm. "It's no trouble. It may be impertinent for me to say, but the public should know what's happening here. At home."

Sandy nods, "I agree wholeheartedly. Palaven may not be my home, but if the Reapers can't be stopped, they'll be on every homeworld soon – including mine."

"Isn't that the terrible truth," Silas mutters. "We're about to depart. Why don't you head over to Aft Observation? I think you'll like the view."

She smiles slightly. "I think I will Silas. Thanks again."

He nods to her and the Lieutenant, who salutes, before they leave to the rear of Deck 2. Once settled on one of the high benches, Sandy catches Nero looking at her from the corner of her eye.

She turns her head and blinks at the biotic. "Is something the matter?"

"You said the Reapers would soon be on your homeworld. Earth was the first homeworld hit," he states by way of explanation.

"Oh, yes," she crosses her booted ankles. "I was born on Thessia."

"Thessia?" He has a look of utter befuddlement on his face. Well... as befuddled as a turian can look. "You're human."

_He's... confused. __I __should __explain. __We'll __be __spending __lots __of __time __together __after __all... _"My parents work at the human embassy on Thessia – it's where they met."

"But... your accent."

"I picked up my parents' accent easily. I was home schooled." She spreads her hands. "I've actually never been to Earth before. I went to university on the Citadel too."

"Huh," he clicks his mandibles sharply. "That explains the dress."

She looks down at her coral and teal-colored dress with confusion marring her face now. "What's wrong with my dress?" _It' ._

"It's an asari dress," he says with amusement. _And why does he know what an asari dress looks like? _"And you groom your fringe like an asari's too."

Sandy touches the top of her dark hair in self-consciousness. She keeps her hair tied in a French braid ending in a short tail just past her neck. _Never had someone say my hair looks like an asari's scalp before. _"I plait my hair in a French braid. It keeps it out of the way."

"Whatever you say Sandy," he clicks his mandibles again, and they both turn their attention towards the large window as the Thuro starts to take off with ignition of its thrusters. "You just look very asari for a human."

…...

Nero stands from his seat once they enter FTL, "We have about three hours until dinner. Senior officers are served first, and once they're done the rest of us get fed."

"So what will we do until then?" Sandy asks as she too stands. She has nothing to do... no refugees to interview, no new messages, and she knows very few people on-board.

Nero points at himself, "I'm going to the Weight Room. You can do whatever you want. I'll be outside the Med-bay in three standard hours."

She sighs, "I guess I could unpack."

Sandy opts to take the stairs to the Crew Deck. _Much __quicker. __Why __do __they __even __have __elevators? __For __cargo __transport? _When she enters the Med-bay, an older female turian in light green medical personnel clothes walks up to her and bobs her head in a short greeting. Her plates are a dull grey, and she has the same blue-color of her face paint as Iraia, but in a more blocky-looking design. "Hello there. I should have introduced myself earlier, but... not with Executive Officer Thiago there, I'm afraid. I'm not... certain on how to greet a human, and I'd not like for her to correct me."

Sandy smiles. Older turians often hold animosity towards humans, but this medic seems to be willing to be friendly. "Oh. You're doing fine. I'm Cassandra Martinez of _Frontier Journals. _I'll be staying aboard as a journalist until this tour ends."

The older turian tilts her head as she clicks her mandibles loudly, "You picked quite the tour to sign on. Oh – I didn't introduce myself." She clicks her mandibles again and wiggles them a bit, "I'm Senior Medical Officer Dunixi Hyroniemus. You may have seen my son? Brutus? He's the pilot."

"Ah – Brutus Hyroniemus. I recognize the name," she nods her head. "Captain Leonitus spoke highly of him." _And __he __did. __He's __one __of __the __few __people __Silas __mentioned __before._

She scrunches her nose a bit. "Good. Good." She turns and gestures at the other two turians in the Med-bay. "Nurses – introduce yourselves to the journalist."

"I'd rather not, Hyroniemus." The only male in the room says in a harsh grumble. He has muddy brown plates, but otherwise no distinctive marks or coloring. _A bareface on a military vessel? Do barefaces join the military?_

Dunixi hums lowly in her throat before turning back to Sandy. "Don't mind him. Barefaces tend to be... disagreeable. He's Tertius." She points at a younger white-plated female turian with wispy light-green face paint. "She's Lux."

"Nurse Lux Diem," the other female elaborates with a short bob of her head, but otherwise doesn't say anything and turns back to her terminal. _Okay..._

"Well," Sandy looks back at the older woman. "Thank you for the introductions Doctor Hyroniemus, but I should unpack my things and ready myself for an extended stay, sí?"

"Of course," she steps aside. "I'm sure we'll have plenty of time to... chat." _She __didn't __sound __so __sure. __Did __she?_

…...

Three hours go by quickly, as Sandy fishes everything out of her duffel bag and into her storage boxes – clothes and non-clothes. She puts two holos on each storage box, that will need moved whenever she opens them. Then she turns on her terminal to see galactic communications are still spotty, but the extranet is still mostly functional – especially all Citadel-based sites. Her omni-tool has a less stable connection than the terminal too, much to her frustration. Even if communications go down, the Thuro is intended to make round-trips to the Citadel, so she could submit her articles by hard-copy on a data-pad if she had to. _Good thing I packed a few data-pads._

She exists the near-empty Med-bay to find Nero waiting as he said he would. She smiles politely before she says, "You know, you don't have to eat with me. You could just do what you normally do, and pretend I'm not here." _He seems friendly enough, but I don't want to be a burden._

He flares his mandibles a bit. "XO Thiago wanted me to babysit you until you 'acclimated'... And besides..." he lowers his voice. "I usually eat by myself."

She arches a brow and asks, "And why's that?"

"The, um," he nervously shifts his feet and lowers his voice further. "Social stigma with... biotics. We, uh... others don't really socialize."

"What?!" she says incredulously, and then lowers her voice. _Ay, that was a little loud. _"Just because you're a biotic, people won't talk to you?"

"Err," he fidgets. "Yes?"

"Madre de Cristo," she sighs. "I could _never _do that. My sister-in-law and niece are both biotics. Though... all asari are biotics."

He tilts his head at her, "You have an asari niece?"

"Sí. She's just a baby. Only three. Little Adelina. My sister's a father... it's a weird thought still."

He snorts at her slight ramble, but replies in kind all the same. "I can imagine." He shifts his feet slightly again and asks in a voice with rough sub-harmonics, "So you'll eat with me?"

She nods her head, "Of course Nero." His whole demeanor seems more confident at her words, and he happily leads them to the Mess Hall.

_Poor Nero, _Sandy thinks as she follows along just beside him. _He's __desperate __for __a __friend. __It __seems __that __once __he __told __me __about __the __biotics, __and __I __didn't __react __poorly, __he __opened __up __some. __And __now __he __wants __to __befriend __me. __Well... __I __am __pretty __sociable. __I'm __sure __I __can __make __up __for __the __lack __of __the __other __turians __being __friendly. __And __maybe __I __could __interview __him __after __he __goes __groundside. __Win-win?_

One of the cooks shows Sandy to her refrigeration unit – it's just a large, cold storage box. Inside she finds nutrient bars, vitamin and mineral fortified water bottles, and pre-made meals aplenty. All cold foods, as turians don't use microwaves, and to limit contamination with the turian kitchen equipment. _It looks like dinner is a mystery meat and cheese sub, a chocolate bar, and... crackers. __Not __bad __considering __what __the __refugees __are __fed. _She takes her small meal pack and a bottle of water and walks to the small, square table Nero chose for them. Unlike the Mess Halls on human ships, _or even the lounge at work_, the Mess is composed of many small tables to allow for multiple arrangements, instead of long tables sitting multiple people. _It seems as though turians are given more personal freedoms in their off hours._

She sits down with a bright smile, only for it to turn into a grimace when she looks at his tray. _What...is that? Oh... it's just so... feo._

Nero hums in amusement as he lifts a rather blue leg of _something _between two talons. "Do you find turian cuisine appetizing?"

"No," she answers on a loud exhale only to cover her mouth in embarrassment. "I mean... That is..." She sighs. "What... is it?" _Did Silas ever eat that thing before? Oh... I think he ate some kind of fruit that was... the same shape... and __things. __But... __not __something __like __that. __That's __obviously __an __animal __of __some __kind._

"A Guier fish." He tares off the... still bloody leg, and... swallows it with a tip of his head.

"It has legs."

"Yeah?"

"How is it a fish? You know... never mind. I'll just eat my food." Sandy opens the flimsy plastic container with her meal, and looks at it with a frown. _How am I supposed to eat after seeing that?_

Suddenly she hears several loud flanging grumbles... a rumbling sound and the smack of mandibles against faceplates. She turns her head to see three turians turned towards the table she's sharing with Nero – they're glaring menacingly with their mandibles snapped to their faces and their hands curled into fists. _Oh... they don't look very happy, do they?_

The feeling of being small and vulnerable overwhelms Sandy again, and she sinks back into her too-large chair as she avoids the other turians' gazes. She's usually not... shy. But she certainly doesn't want to be on the receiving end of three pissed off turians' collective ires.

"Hey, she's a guest of the Captain's." She hears Nero say, and looks up from her lap to see his mandibles lax non-threateningly with one three-fingered hand up in a pacifying gesture.

There's more rumbling and the three turians get up from their table and move elsewhere in the Mess. Both groups receive several stares from the other room's occupants for several moments, until most turn back to their meals.

"Don't mind them," Nero says to her. "If they're having problems they can go to Thiago. They shouldn't have said that anyway."

She blinks at him, her confusion replacing the discomfort she felt. "I didn't hear them say anything."

"You didn't hear-" His mandibles click softly, "Human translators don't pick up subvocals?"

She leans her arms on the table, "You mean that rumbling was words?"

He sighs and clicks his talons on the table's surface. Surprisingly quite a few turians on the ship choose to be gloveless, despite turian etiquette that dictates otherwise. "Not quite words..." He hums in thought, "Emotions... expressions." He whines softly, "You really haven't understood a single subvocalization?"

_Does he sound upset? Huh? _"No I haven't... Have I missed much?"

"You could say that," his mandibles twitch. He turns back to his food, and picks up another leg from the... fish. "I'll try to keep everything, uh, blunt. But the others... Let me know if you're ever confused and I'll, um, try to help."

"Okay," she picks up her mystery meat sub and takes a bite. _Some kind of... salami? _"Could you introduce me to the other members of the ground team later? I'd like to be able to place names with faces for my articles."

"You're writing about the ground team?" He questions as he moves to eat a rather purple bar of... something. _It's very crunchy what ever it is._

"I'll be writing about the civilians you rescue, but the ground team will also be a focus. How many soldiers are part of it?"

"Five, including myself. We've decided to keep our contingent as small as possible for high-risk drops."

"And what do they all do?" she asks between bites.

Nero pauses to take a drink from a water bottle shaped to accommodate turian mouths, "Crispin is our field medic and communications expert, Horace is our heavy hitter, Sumner is an engineer, and then there's always either the Captain or Thiago with us too."

"Let me see," Sandy holds up a hand to count as she goes. "A medic, heavy, engineer, biotic, and a veteran soldier – you have a little bit of everything there, huh?"

He spreads his mandibles in a grin, "Better to be over prepared than under."

She nods, "I've seen a few vids... spoke to a few people." _Understatement of the century._ "You definitely need any advantage you can get out there against the Reapers."

There's a somber pause as they both eat their meal as they're lost in thoughts about the war. "Is your... family well?" Sandy looks up at Nero, and he fidgets. "I mean... You haven't lost anyone have you?" He sighs slightly, _well sighs as much as a turian can_, "You don't have to answer that."

She shakes her head, "No – it's okay. But I haven't lost anyone. My parents still work at the embassy on Thessia, and my sister and her family live near them. I don't have any extended family by my parents that I know of either."

Nero tilts his head, "Friends?"

"Ay," she clicks her tongue. "I've been fortunate that my friends are safe, and the only one that was in any danger was Silas – but he's fine too. I've been very... unaffected by this war. Until now – now I'm trying to help... in my own way." She studies him for a moment, and can see that something is off in his expression. "You... haven't lost anyone have you?"

"I'm not from Palaven," he gestures at his yellow face paint. "Or a colony. I was raised on starships... my entire family was. They're all still part of the Fleet. I'm... not sure about some of them. Communications haven't been good outside Palaven-space." He clicks his mandibles softly, "You're not going to write about that, are you?"

She pats the back of one of his hands in sympathy, and he looks down at her hand atop of his briefly in confusion of the gesture, as she replies, "I won't write anything without permission. If you don't want me to mention your family, I won't Nero."

He looks up at her and studies her face for a moment, "You're easy to talk to." He smirks, "Must make you a good journalist."

She removes her hand from his with a slight smile, and let's him change the topic to something a bit lighter. "I've always liked talking and listening. Journalism just fit with that."

He shakes his head, "Just today, I've probably said more than I normally do in a week." He stands and picks up his empty tray, "I can introduce you to the ground team now."

…...

Sandy returns to her room to flop onto her cot after talking to the ground team for _three hours_. It turns out that Crispin, _Crispin Aloysius,_i s the nurse, Lux's, cousin. And he's just as awkward. _Not much of a talker. _Then she met Horace Eryx, the largest and darkest plated turian she'd ever met. _His plates are like obsidian. _He said a bit more than Crispin – said he was a soldier... and that he didn't want to be interviewed. He also growled something that Nero took immediate offense to, and muttered aloud that _'pyjaks shouldn't be permitted aboard'. _Sandy then understood that the large turian wasn't fond of humans, and if she scooted a little closer to Nero in fear of being attacked by a _gigantic _turian for simply being human, who could blame her? She also may have hid behind Nero and grasped onto his armored back when she thought Horace was going to shoot her with his shotgun – because she _cannot _understand a turian's flanging subvocalizations, and was... a _little_ afraid. Horace was showing _a lot _of hostility. And all she did was introduce herself. Nero had to pull her aside into a service hall in the Hangar and calm her down afterwards, because she may have also been hyperventilating. She had never seen a _loaded _gun in person before. And certainly had never had a loaded gun _pointed at her._ She lives on the Presidium – no thugs would venture there. She remembers her panic attack with a grimace on her face...

"_¡__Ay Dios! __¡__Ay Dios! __¡__Casi me muerto!"_

"_Sandy.__" __Nero __had __bent __his __head __as __far __as __he __could __in __an __attempt __to __catch __her __gaze. __She __had __her __hands __in __her __hair, __messing __her __braid.__ "__Sandy__ – __look __at __me.__" __She __was __breathing __heavily, __and __her __eyes __were __darting __around __with __her __gaze __focused __on __the __ground __before __her.__ "__Sandy...__" __he __hummed __softly __in __an __attempt __to __calm __her. __He __reached __out __tentatively __and __grasped __one __of __her __forearms __after __a __moment, __cautious __of __his __talons.__ "__Sandy__ – __you're __okay.__"_

_She __swallowed __and __looked __up __at __him. __As __he __held __her __gaze __and __her __arm, __her __breathing __slowly __returned __to __normal.__ "__Nero-__" __she__ gasps and squeezes her eyes shut tightly__.__ "__If __you __weren't __there __I __would __have __died!__"_

"_He __wouldn't __have __killed __you.__" __He __hummed __again, __and__ dropped his hand from her arm. "__I'll __talk __to __Thiago __about __it __when __my __shift __is __over. __She'll __handle __it. __I'm __sure __the __Captain __will __have __a __few __choice __words __for __Horace __too.__"_

"_Dios,__" __her __eyes __were __still tightly __shut __as __she__ wrapped her arms around her chest__.__ "__You __and __Silas __are __the __only __people __who __like __me __here.__"_

_She__ took a deep breath __and __scrubbed __at __her __face.__ "__Please __tell __me __the __last __ground __team __member __is __nicer.__"_

"_She __is,__" __he __nodded.__ "__I __think __you'll __like __Sumner. __But...__" __he __pointed __at __her __hair.__ "__Your __fringe __isn't... __right.__"_

After taking her hair out of her now ruined braid, Sandy followed Nero cautiously to a slightly secluded station in Engineering too see a pale, red-plated turian, _almost pink, _with Palaven City-blue face paint in intricate zig-zags on her face. Sandy did like Sumner Endymion. She is... very friendly. And _very _curious about humans. She spent over two hours alone in the engineer's company, as Sumner worked on her terminal and asked a near-endless stream of questions. Nero left her after a short time to make a report on Horace to Iraia, and returned much later to escort a much happier Sandy back to her room. _There's __one __more __person __aboard __this __ship __that __likes __me. __Gracias __Dios._

Sandy rights herself on her cot and picks up the two holos on her 'clothes' storage chest. She looks at the images saved there – one of her sister and Mai holding hands near a lake where they live, and another with herself holding her neice, Adelina, swaddled in a blanket as a baby. She smiles softly and sets those two holos beside the others – her parents laughing and sitting on a park bench with a three-year-old Adelina seated between them, and a group shot of her friends at their last holiday party. She then readies herself for the night cycle. _Which __is __two __hours __shorter __than __on __the __Citadel. __Turians __sleep __less __than __other __species, __but __not __as __little __as __a __salarian... __I'll __have __to __adjust._

And afterwards makes an entry in her personal journal on her omni-tool. The last sentence she writes before going to sleep is: _Stay away from the Hangar._

…...

Author Note: It should be noted that I am _not _a fluent Spanish speaker (had classes in it in both high school and university). If you find any mistakes, please let me know. This story will be updated sporadically, as I already have two on-going co-stories (links on my profile) and a smattering of DA stories on hiatus (I _really _shouldn't have started another story, but couldn't help myself once this idea attacked me). I will try for updates every other week though. Also, for those of you who think I will be pairing Sandy and Nero as a couple – I will not! Mwahahaha. You'll just have to wait it out for eventual romances and drama! Thanks for the read! :D (Btw – I digitally painted the cover myself, and you can find the full-sized image on my deviantart account: Musicalrain0 – there is a link on my profile.)


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